Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. By now the horses would be rested and he might go as swiftly back again. CHAPTER XXIX. “Are you feeling okay?” “Just fine. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood. “But you must forgive me, John. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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